


Christmas Spirit

by ThirdGenerationRockette



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: Christmas 2012, Christmas fic, F/M, Fluff, Post-Engagement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 12:27:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13811175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirdGenerationRockette/pseuds/ThirdGenerationRockette
Summary: “It's the first day of December, Will, of course we have plans.” She sighs, giving nothing away besides the fact she thinks he's an idiot for not knowing what those plans are.





	Christmas Spirit

It's only been a few weeks since they got back together, since he had a long-awaited flash of sense and asked her to marry him, and since she – thank _God_ – said yes. Even so, he's already used to being woken by the feel of her cold hands sliding under his t-shirt, seeking out the warmth she always craves, her small sigh of satisfaction when she finds it making him smile every time.

“Morning, honey,” he mumbles, smiling as he covers her hands with his.

“Mm, you're warm, Billy. It's nice.” He can hear the smile in her voice. “It's Saturday.”

“Yeah, finally.” His fingers tangle in hers and that's when he hears it, the soft, gentle sigh that he loves. The sigh that says she's content, and that it's because of him, or his warm hands, at least. Whichever, he'll take it. “This has felt like a really long week.”

“It has, hasn't it?” He feels her shift slightly behind him and then her lips move to the back of his neck, soft and warm against his skin. “You know what today is?”

“It's Saturday, like you just said.” As he answers he has the feeling there's more to her words than a reaffirmation of the day.

“You can lie there and act like this is just any old Saturday all you like, but we both know what today is,” she says, sounding so firm that he wonders what she has planned for today and how many times he must have agreed to it while obviously paying absolutely no attention whatsoever.

“Right...” He frowns (not that she can see him), scrambling frantically to recall any plans they might have made for today, hoping desperately it doesn't involve interacting with any other humans, with the possible exception of someone selling them coffee. “Sure, it's...ah, it's December today.”

“It is.” She doesn't elaborate, which makes him almost certain he must have agreed to something, must have somehow acted like he was listening, while he was actually focused on her eyes, or the way she bites her lip, or her legs...probably her legs. Dammit.

“Alright, I 'fess up, I have no idea what the significance of today's date is.” He shrugs slightly and notes with some relief that her fingers are still tangled happily in his. “Did we...plan something for today?”

“It's the first day of December, Will, of course we have plans.” She sighs, giving nothing away besides the fact she thinks he's an idiot for not knowing what those plans are.

“You know, if you're asking me to guess, we're going to be here all day, so...” He pauses, gently sliding her hands out from under his shirt so he can turn to face her. “You're going to need to tell me what it is we're doing today, Mac.”

“Good God, I genuinely have no idea how you got through a single day without me.” She's joking, he knows that, and the smirk on her face proves it, but it's a question he's asked himself more than once over the past few weeks. “We're about to drag ourselves out of this bed, we're going to go out and get coffee, and then we're going to find a Christmas tree.”

“A Christmas tree?” He's completely sure she hadn't mentioned that to him because he knows he'd have heard it and raised an objection.

“Yes.” She rolls her eyes, goes on. “Tall, green, smells wonderful, looks beautiful covered in lights and decorations. Does that ring any bells with you?”

“I believe I've seen a Christmas tree or two in my time, yeah.” He can't help smiling in the face of her irritatingly infectious enthusiasm. “I just figured-”

“You figured that since we're moving into our new apartment in a few weeks we wouldn't bother getting a tree, right?” She doesn't wait for him to answer, he doesn't even think she was inviting him to. “Wrong. We're moving in _after_ Christmas, so while we are still here, in this expensive but depressingly sterile apartment of yours, we're going to make it look festive if it kills me. Which it won't, obviously, because I am great at decorating for Christmas-”

“What I _was_ going to say is that we're not even here for Christmas, we're at your parents' place, so that's why I figured we wouldn't get a tree.” He wonders why he's even talking, he knows that in a couple of hours they'll be dragging an enormous tree home, and by the end of the day his apartment is going to resemble a freakishly over-decorated department store.

“Nice try, but we fly out two days before Christmas, which means that if we get a tree today it'll be up for three weeks before we leave, which is more than enough time to enjoy it. We're away for a grand total of five days, including the travel, which also means we'll have another week before we have to take it down.” She grins and he knows he's long beaten. “So basically, our tree will have four weeks of looking delightful and brightening up this overly white apartment.”

“I don't have a leg to stand on in this argument, do I?” He returns her grin as she shakes her head. “Alright, I'm not going to ask for details because I'm guessing you've done your research and you know exactly where we're going to get this tree and exactly what size we need to get to fit whichever corner you've already decided it's going to go, and where we're buying decorations-”

“Please. Do I look like some kind of amateur? One of the boxes I haven't bothered to unpack is full of decorations so we're fine on that front.” She pauses and a faint frown crosses her face. “Although, actually, we should buy one thing to hang together, something to mark our first Christmas back together, but we can worry about that later...right, let's get moving.”

*

“It's about fifteen feet high, honey.” He looks up at the tree, and just that fact alone tells him it's too big.

“Don't exaggerate,” she says, glancing at the tree and then at him before she apparently concedes that if it's four feet taller than him then it's too big for the apartment. “But yes, this one probably is _slightly_ too big.”

They move on, weaving through the rows of trees, dodging the many other people of Manhattan who have apparently also decided that today is the day they must buy a tree. The next one she leads him to, her hand in his as she pulls him over to look at it, is not as tall but it is, he's pretty sure, the widest tree that's ever been grown.

“You know they make really good artificial trees now,” he says, regretting his words almost instantly when a look of sheer horror crosses her face. “They come in a box, all neatly packed, easy to assemble, easy to store, I mean-”

“William Duncan McAvoy, wash your filthy mouth out!” She shakes her head, looking like she can't quite believe he would even dare to make such an outlandish suggestion, then grabs his hand so they can continue their search.

“Do I need to remind you of just how much I love Christmas?” She bites her lip as she looks up at him, her cheeks tinged pink, her hat making her look even more ridiculously adorable than usual.

“Nope.” He takes her hand again and smiles at her. “I'm well aware of your love of all things festive.”

“Then I never want to hear the words 'artificial tree' come out of your mouth again as long as we both live.” She shudders in what he would assume was mock horror if he was dumb enough to underestimate her commitment to Christmas. “Come on, we need to keep looking.”

He knows when she's found the one she wants because she stops, squeezes his fingers and sighs before smiling up at him. He smiles back and turns his attention to the tree, relieved that it's a good size but it won't put Rockefeller Center to shame, and that it isn't so wide they'll be breathing in for the next three weeks just to leave the living room.

“This the one?” he asks, watching as her eyes widen and her smile follows suit.

“This is the one.” She nods and he hands the cash over to the guy who's been patiently waiting for them (well, her, really) to make their choice, waving away his attempt to give him change, just grateful the ordeal is over.

*

“You know they'd have delivered it, right?” They're a block from home and they've stopped once again, the tree leaning against a wall as they build up enough energy to pick it up and make it the rest of the way back.

“You heard the guy, the earliest they could get it to us was Wednesday,” she says, in a tone that suggests he had told them it would be four months before they could deliver, not four days.

“Yeah, I heard him.” He knows better than to argue, instead picking up the tree, grateful that they're close enough to home that they shouldn't need to stop again, grateful too that it's late enough in the day to make it entirely acceptable to start drinking while they decorate the damn thing.

He doesn't miss the raised eyebrows of the doorman as they walk into the building, nor the way his expression changes when Mackenzie works her usual magic, smiling sweetly at him as she peers at him from under the tree.

“I don't suppose we could use the service elevator, could we, Frank?” she asks, pointing slightly unnecessarily at the tree. “I think it would just about fit into the regular one, but we'd hate to leave a mess in there for the neighbours. You know how pine needles are.”

“No problem, Ms McHale, follow me.” Frank grins and they follow, dragging the tree awkwardly through the lobby as he silently gives thanks, as he does regularly, for his fiancée's charms.

They make it in and out of the much larger service elevator, into the apartment, and somehow down the hallway and into the living room, where he carefully leans the tree against the wall and flops down onto the couch. He watches as Mackenzie grins, pulls off her hat and coat and, without warning, climbs into his lap, takes his face in her hands and kisses him.

“Thank you,” she murmurs against his lips as she pulls back slightly. “I know this wasn't how you wanted to spend your Saturday. I promise next Saturday you can watch football and I won't complain at all.”

“Does the same deal apply if the game I want to watch is tomorrow?” He says, leaning forward to kiss her, smiling at the confused look on her face as he pulls away. “We're playing the Cardinals tomorrow.”

“I'm guessing by 'we', you mean your team, not that you've signed the two of us up to play, so sure, tomorrow then, the game is all yours, Billy.” She smiles and gives him another kiss before running a thumb across his bottom lip. “I promise.”

*

One hour, fifty-three minutes, several rounds of bickering, and a bottle of wine later they have a fully decorated tree which even he's willing to admit makes the apartment look pretty damn festive. She loves it, he can tell. He could tell even when they were fighting over the tangled lights that she loved it; her wide, bright eyes, her smile, and the way she kept squeezing his arm excitedly every time they hung something new on the tree made it quite clear.

She sits down, leaning back, resting her head on the back of the couch, pulling him down to sit beside her, her eyes never leaving the tree, her gaze fixed first on the sparkling lights, then moving up to focus on the shiny silver star at the top. They sit in appreciative silence before she eventually turns to him and smiles, the crinkling of her nose and the brightness of her eyes reminding him for about the millionth time this week of just how damn beautiful she is.

“See?” She smiles even wider and slides her hand onto his knee, squeezing gently. “Do you even remember how this room looked without a gigantic Christmas tree?”

“I...no, I'm almost certain that tree has been here since the day I moved in.” He indulges her because he can, because he wants to, because she owns him, and she knows it.

“Shut it, Ebenezer. You love it as much as I do.” There's a smile in her voice and a glance in her direction confirms it, there's a small, satisfied expression on her face and a faraway look in her eyes as she stares at the tree.

“I'm fairly sure that's impossible,” he says, smirking. “But yeah, I'm willing to concede that it looks pretty good.”

“You know, this is the first Christmas I've looked forward to in...well, in years, actually.” She doesn't sound sad but he feels the usual current of guilt run through him at the thought of the five Christmases he's missed spending with her, and he remembers suddenly something she said earlier.

“Get your coat on.” He stands up and tugs on her hand, unsurprised when she looks up at him in confusion rather than getting to her feet.

“What? Why? Where are we going?” She frowns, watching as he reaches for her hat and coat, holding them out in front of him until she does eventually stand up.

“You said earlier than we needed to buy something for the tree, right? Something to mark our first Christmas back together.” He waits as she slides her arms into her coat and takes her hat from his hand. “That's where we're going.”

“Now?” She looks like he suggested a small trip to the moon and it almost makes him laugh out loud.

“Look, I'm fighting my inner Grinch here, Mackenzie, and right now I'm winning,” he says, taking her hand and pulling her towards him. “So, I'm going to suggest we roll with it. How does Christmas ornament shopping followed by dinner sound to you?”

“I'm liking this new Christmas spirit of yours, Billy.” She leans up and plants a soft, sweet kiss on his lips, squeezing his hand as she pulls away. “Let's get out of here before the Grinch starts fighting back.”


End file.
